Back at the camp, Mary remained for a long time with her eyes lost in space. The scene she had just witnessed remained etched in her mind. The woman's moans and screams echoed in her head and she couldn't help but wonder about the act she had overheard. For a brief moment, she had thought that they were moans of pain, but very quickly, the encouragement that the woman addressed to her lover had provided her with proof that they were rather expressions of pleasure. She had heard women of the clan talk about carnal knowledge before, but she had listened to their stories with a distracted ear, because it did not interest her. Surprising this couple in action had changed her perception of things.

The young girl began to wonder about the act itself and the sensations it could provide. This woman seemed to like it. Better still, she even seemed to really like what this man was doing to her. The cries of pleasure she had heard attested to this. How could it feel to be possessed like this by a man? What could arouse so much contentment in the interlocking of two bodies? However, it was the same mechanism in sheep, cows or horses and the females did not utter such cries of ecstasy! Very often, they even seemed bothered or, at best, indifferent to the approaches of the males. Why was it so different between men and women? Moreover, things did not happen the same way for all women since she had heard of wives who hated fulfilling what they called marital duty! And there were also cases of rape. She had heard some chilling stories about this! Why and how could the same physical act provoke such drastic reactions within in her peers? Was it due to the woman or the man?

After wondering at length about carnal knowledge, Mary turned her thoughts to the man who had so impressed her. Who was he ? What clan did he belong to? Was he young or much older than her? How did he look from the front? Did he have a pleasant face or was he repulsive? Judging by his stature and musculature, the man was in excellent physical condition. He wasn't a lanky kid so he must have been five or ten years older than her. Maybe even fifteen, but no more. Certainly, she was a little far away when she observed him, but she had not seen any white streaks in his hair, so he could not have been more than thirty years old. He was shirtless and didn't seem to be suffering from the cold, so she deduced that he probably belonged to one of those northern or island clans. Too bad she didn't think to memorize the sett of her blanket, she might have been able to identify her clan. To tell the truth, she hadn't thought of much!

Late in the afternoon, Mary accompanied her uncle and aunt for a walk through the camps. Silently, she followed the Lindsay couple in their movements and observed everything that was happening around her. Lord David led his wife and niece to a large fenced field where many warriors were gathered. The men trained or chatted while observing the evolutions of those who wielded the heavy two-handed sword. A few minutes after her arrival, Mary's eye was caught by a bright flash. Immediately, her eyes searched for the origin of the sparkle that had caught her attention. When she saw the silver bracelet reflecting the sun's rays, she instinctively stiffened before moving her gaze up the arm and then scanning the stranger's back. Her heartbeat raced as she moved a little to the side to try to see his other arm. When she saw the blue lines of the tattoo that adorned it, she no longer had any doubt: it was the lover of the forest! The man had his back turned to her once again and she could not see his face. She tried to identify the clan to which he belonged by the colors of his plaid. The sett consisted of blue and green tiles and had red secondary nets of two different thicknesses as well as a white net. The pattern reminded her of something, but she couldn't remember where she had seen one like it. Noticing several warriors wearing the same plaid as her stranger, Mary discreetly questioned Chief Lindsay.

"Uncle, how can you differentiate your allies from your enemies in the midst of all these men? Some setsts look very similar.

"The force of habit, my niece."

"How can I recognize the members of the clans who wish us harm?" asked the young girl.

"Do you see this bearded colossus? He's wearing the Buchanan plaid. Look out for the sett and definitely don't approach the men of this clan. They are opposed to your father's MacLeans. Just like the MacKinnons."

Lord David Lindsay discreetly pointed to men with red plaid with green and blue secondary threads before adding:

"Especially at the moment. Your father's clan is in conflict with the MacKinnons and therefore with their allies. Even though truces are in effect during interclan encounters, try to stay away from men from enemy clans.

"Good, uncle."

" And above all, don't divulge your father's name. If a MacKinnon or one of his allies found out who you really are, you could become a prime target for them. As long as you remain a Lindsay in everyone's eyes, you won't risk anything."

"Tell me, uncle, these warriors with the blue and green plaids belong to which clan? They came in force."

"They're MacDonalds. They are numerous, because there are several branches of the clan that can easily be confused, their tartans being very similar. These are MacDonald warriors of Clanranald. Stay away from them too. Although your father and brother had friendships with them in the past, this is no longer the case, as they are related to the MacDonalds of Islay and therefore allied to the MacKinnons."

"I don't understand. If Father was friends with Chief MacDonald of Clanranald, why are they no longer friends? What have the MacDonalds done to my clan?"

"They didn't do anything to your clan members. Their rivalry is simply due to the game of alliances. The MacDonalds have been allies of the MacKinnons for many years. The MacKinnons having declared war on the MacLeods, the MacDonalds must lend them assistance. And it is the same for the other branches of their clan such as the MacDonalds of Clanranald or the MacDonalds of Keppoch. Just like the MacLeans must assist the MacLeods since your father is their ally."

"But that's insane! the young girl protested. It's a conflict between the MacKinnons and the MacLeods and they're dragging other innocent clans into the war!"

Lord David looked at his niece with a disapproving look before responding in a biting voice:

"You don't have to judge the agreements between the clans, Mary! These are not women's affairs! You don't understand anything about alliances or their importance."

Mary stiffened under the admonition and apologized in a muffled voice:

"Forgive me, uncle!"

Then she stood still, her head bowed for a few minutes. Despite her humble attitude, the young girl kept ruminating:

"No women's affairs! No women's affairs! As if they were incapable of thinking for themselves! However, women would surely be more sensible in this kind of situation! Clearly, these Lowlanders displayed many prejudices towards the fairer sex! Did she look like a fool? Her father would never have reprimanded her like that. He would have explained the ins and outs to her. Failing to approve them, he could have at least listened to her arguments! God, she missed her Isle of Mull!"

After ranting in her head about the Lowlanders and their prejudices about female intelligence, Mary allowed herself to be distracted by warrior training. Discreetly, she observed the man she met in the forest. So, he was indeed a Highlander and he belonged to the MacDonald clan of Clanranald. The more the girl looked at him, the more uncomfortable she felt and she didn't like this strange feeling. She forced herself to look away to observe other fighters and the feeling disappeared after a few minutes. Reassured, Mary looked again at the MacDonald warrior and shuddered when she saw his face. He had just changed opponents and was now facing her. His nose, straight and well proportioned, topped a full and expressive mouth. His powerful jaw, lightly shaded with beard, accentuated the virility of his face. Combined with his piercing gaze, it reinforced his determined expression. He had light eyes, between blue and gray, and a thin scar crossed his right eyebrow. Mary felt like she was being punched in the chest when she looked at his features. She knew this man!

She remembered the day he got that little wound above his eye. He had accompanied warriors from his clan to Duart. While their father was talking with Chief MacDonald, his brother had gone to climb the cliff with other boys and he invited young MacDonald to follow them. Mary had secretly spied on them and witnessed the fall of the two teenagers. She was only eight years old, but she had rushed to inquire about their fate. Seeing that they only suffered from cuts, she offered to treat them. If Gavin, upset by her fall, had violently pushed her away, this had not been the case for young MacDonald. He was kind to her and thanked her after she finished cleaning the blood from his face. Mary still remembered the gentleness of his gestures when he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers in thanks. The little girl she was then was over the moon to see a boy seven years her senior show her so much consideration.

Cailean MacDonald!

The man she had spied in the forest was the son of Chief MacDonald of Clanranald and her brother's friend! Or more precisely his former playmate since their clans were enemies now.